Windows to the Soul by John J. Downey I run Windows 3.1. I have to admit it. It's not easy for me, you see. I didn't always have all these gnarly and rad icons dancing before me; oh no. For the longest time I fought it. Those were the innocent days, the days when Bill Gates made only 65 million per year. A new product was on the shelves, and I scarcely glanced at it. Some large bru-ha-ha about a graphic oriented operating system. "How silly," I though to myself (as there were no mind-readers in the immediate vicinity), "and how strange. Why should a person buy a shell program for the P.C. that makes it look like a MAC?" Chuckling, I wandered off, remembering warm thoughts of my first computer, the Commodore 64, and a program called GEOS that was also supposed to revolutionize something or other. While I thought it was a silly idea, apparently the Madman Gates had other schemes in mind for the unsuspecting public. In a few years Windows 386 was released, and the magazine pundits came down from their lofty realms and proclaimed the software to be the most sparkling, wondrous, innovative new idea since last Tuesday. In this new Age of Buzzwords, the word "multitasking" was compared with just having received the best sexual experience one can imagine. So, I took another peek at Billy's Brainchild. I read a few articles, all of which seemed to lean the same way: ISN'T DOS ICKY? DON'T YOU ALL REALLY HATE TO SEE THAT HORRID "C:>" PROMPT? AREN'T ICONS JUST SO TOTALLY RAD THAT YOU COULD JUST SPIT? THAT "C:>" PROMPT REALLY, REALLY DOES SUCK NOW, DOESN'T IT? THIS PROGRAM IS LIKE, SO TOTALLY INTUITIVE, IT'LL EVEN LIE TO YOUR BOSS FOR YOU! *DAMN* THAT EVIL, YOUTH-CORRUPTING, FESTERING SORE OF A "C:>" PROMPT! Needless to say, I had never had any problems whatsoever with my own "C:>" prompt, and while I have angrily accused it of questionable lineage on several occasions when it threw up a program, I rather liked my happy, ever-questioning blink on the screen. It was small; it was unobtrusive; it was patient. Nonetheless, being the experimental sort that I am, I decided to take a closer look at what all the hubbub was about. I ran a program that had a run-time version of Windows 386, and my machine rewarded my curiosity by crashing the first program I put in it. Feh. Back to the Pits for you. And so my system remained cheerfully Windows-free. Meanwhile, obscene and horrid rituals were being performed at Microsoft. Hulking, hairy brutes of programmers sat by dimly-lit screens as the Master pounded his drums. Sorcerers of the most fiendish sort were renamed "Marketing Directors." A change was beginning to come over me as well. I found an unobtrusive little shareware program called MasterMenu, and I found it a nice, happy shell that I could AUTOEXEC.BAT into so all my nice, happy DOS programs could find a place to roost. All was content in my little 80x25 text world, with the occasional foray into the realm of graphics to follow the latest exploits of Larry Laffer. But, while still innocent enough, a change was taking place. The dreaded SHELL complex. My old friend the "C:>" prompt was visiting me with less frequency, although it was always good to have around when the going got tough. It was the beginning of the end. Microsoft emerged into the light of day, looking gaunt and sporting chin stubble and sunglasses, and proclaimed that this time they had really, really, really done it. Oh, yes. By God, THIS was the program that would bury C:> once and for all! After this announcement, they threw themselves on a hapless cat and devoured it whole. The program was Windows 3.0. The Magazine Gods, shifting their massive, bloated hulks slowly, descended to Earth to have a look see. And this is what they said: "Wow!" "Gee!" "Better than before! Much, MUCH better than before! Why, we must have had our heads up our butts to have thought the previous version was good! It crashed all the time! Why, it even crashed the first program I threw into it! But now, I mean, Wow!" "Ditto!" And so it went. The evil Marketing Directors, however, had a new scheme in mind to brainwash the public: DOS IS DEAD! DOS IS DEAD! THIS IS INTUITIVE! I STAKE MY BLACKENED SOUL ON IT! CLICK! THAT'S IT! POINT AND CLICK! THAT'S ALL YOU EVER, EVER, EVER DO! YOU *DO* LIKE TO POINT AND CLICK, DON'T YOU? I MEAN, ONLY A COMPLETE DWEEB DOESN'T LIKE TO POINT AND CLICK! ONLY AN ASEXUAL COMMUNIST NAZI CHILD-MOLESTER DOESN'T LIKE TO POINT AND CLICK! One day, in a fit of lunacy brought on by eating too many Peanut Butter Cups, I borrowed a friend's copy of 3.0 and decided to throw it on the system. Just for yuks, I told myself. Just pop the little sucker right on there. What, maybe three, four minutes to install it, right? I opened the instruction manual. There were words, many words. Some of the words were English, but mixed with a strange alien tongue. My head began to spin, and I realized that a Sorcerer's OBFUSCATE AND ESCHEW LOGIC spell had been cast on the pages. "To run Version 3.12b of Scythe Softwares' 'Stellar Piglets of the Chromosphere' in VGA Mode 13 with Protected RAM in hi-res, add DEVICE=USELESS.PGM and TSRV=466.GARBLE 3B in [386 Enh] sec. of WIN.INI, after which you must edit said .PIF with some memory in the negative digits and some positive. Toggle Virtual 8088 mode several times until the machine makes a clicky noise. Reboot Windows three times, chanting 'Paul is dead'. Needs 159 Meg free RAM in XMS, EMS, and some MS's we haven't quite thought of yet. Eat a fresh mollusk. Then call Tech Support for 4 hours of muzak, after which we will disconnect you. May not work if you have a VGA monitor. WARNING: THIS PROGRAM MAY CAUSE WINDOWS TO CRASH, AND WE WOULDN'T WANT THAT, WOULD WE?" Good heavens, no. After I finished installing all my programs, I looked up to notice that some seasons had gone by. But it was done, and now I wanted to try something evil, something called . . . multitasking. I started up Windows, loaded the Calculator, loaded WordPerfect . . . GAAK!! "Your application has violated system integrity. System will implode in 10 seconds. Get out now or die." "But I did everything right!" I shouted. The screen grinned at me. "Everything!" I bellowed. The screen smugly displayed a Windows logo with a little sad face. "Oh, DAMN YOU ALL TO HELL!" I screamed, ripping off my clothes and running out into the streets for a primal hunt of flesh. Returning home from the Precinct, I vowed not to let Microsoft take me alive. I would fight the festering malignancy that lurked in my CPU, and begin a crusade to enlighten the masses. I removed Windows from my system with all the delicacy of Napalm. Then I strode out to inform the unsuspecting world: In a software store: "There's a virus on millions of computers now. It's called Windows." At a friend's house: "NO, 'SOLITAIRE' IS NOT GOOD! IT IS THE ANTICHRIST!" On a date: "'PageMaker'? What, are you some kind of big-haired, plaster-faced FREAK? GET OUT OF MY BED!" But my attempts were making no impact; every month when the computer mags hit the stands, more and more attentions were devoted to Windows apps. I tried everything; letters to the editor, threats to the editor, letter bombs to the editor, but they would simply replace the man in charge. It was a losing battle. Meanwhile, Microsoft must have figured that there were many, many things in the world that they did not own yet, so they beat the programmers again. They released Windows 3.1 into the world, first making sure that they removed all bits of flesh from the shipping boxes. The magazine pundits, upon seeing the latest incarnation, evacuated all their bodily fluids at once. Heads exploded. Limbs were torn off and used to bash themselves about the head, so complete was their joy. One actually admitted that he could never get Windows 3.0 to function properly in multitasking, but he was covered in honey and staked to an anthill before he could get it into print. At this time, I was darkly roaming the local boards, hunting for wondrous DOS apps. Time and time again I would spend $234.95 in phone bills for a $49.95 program that, when executed, told me, "This program needs Windows to run." How the neighbors ran! After holstering my weapon, I would quietly reflect on the sorry state of the PC World. How could they not see? It was sometime during this state of mind that I realized that in order for me to be the One and True PC God, I must acknowledge the presence of Windows. How can I begin to describe the madness that followed? Afterwards, my landlord graciously offered to repair the ceiling and walls while I was in the ward. The National Guard finally went off "alert" status. Shaken and humbled, I went to my friend: "Gimme Windows 3.1" My friend's lower lip began to tremble, and he nervously fingered his Kevlar vest. "Uh, you mean . . . uh . . . really?" "Yes. Gimme. Now." He performed the deed, and soon I was putting the accursed program into my PC. The Setup Program was too simple, I darkly reflected, no doubt to tease and goad me! Soon the Windows 3.1 Startup screen appeared, and the familiar icons danced across my screen. Determined to show once and for all that Windows was the true cause of all strife in the world, I started to multitask. I loaded WordPerfect 5.1 for DOS. I switched out and booted the Calculator. No problems. "Hah!" said I, "So you corrected that! So what?" I switched out and booted Q&A 4.0. No problems. My brow was wet with perspiration. "Well . . . so fine, they got one or two things right! You won't sway me that easily!" I switched out and loaded my telecommunications software, got online, and started to download. No problems! "Impossible!" I shouted. "It cannot be!" I could feel the change happening within my soul. Soon I was on the floor mumbling monosyllabic nonsense. They had captured me. It was over. Soon, with drool issuing from my gaping mouth, I customized my icons, drew up stable .PIF's, changed my .BMP to my own dark tastes. One program after another was added to the Program Manager, until one horrid day when I changed my AUTOEXEC.BAT file so the last line would read "WIN :". The mutation was complete. So ends my tale. I write this with Windows software. My final words of advice: Beware. Windows will suck you in and devour you. Where before you spoke only of Command Line Parameters, your voice will issue statements of "Alt-Tab task switching." It is evil, and darkly tempting. It is too late for me. The night is upon me. They come for me now. May God have mercy on my soul. EDITOR'S NOTE: The following transcript was discovered by police at the residence of John J. Downey, who was reported missing several weeks before. His apartment has yielded few clues to his where- abouts, although many intriguing items were found, especially the crude shrine with a slashed picture of Bill Gates and the strange, misshapen monitor that refuses to turn off even after the power is interrupted. After discovering this story, the official stance of the police is that Mr. Downey is quite mad and urges the public to contact them if he is sighted. After all, only a madman would use Windows. {RAH} -------------- John is a 30 year old Planetarian (Trans: "He Who Bores In Round Dark Room") and the Sysop of The Dome Ideas BBS. (FidoNet 1:272/104.) He occupies his off-hours by planting light bulbs.